Chips or Fries?
by StarsAlignXO
Summary: UsUk. GerIta. AU. Boarding school. Rated T for swearing and occasional sexual scene. Arthur is the gay, unpopular nerd. Alfred is the all American popular jock. Straight, of course. They both seem to hate each other-Until they both get locked in a sports cellar and things happen that really shouldn't. What ensues is a whole load of drama...
1. A forbidden kiss

Chips or fries?

**UsUk. GerIta. AU. Boarding school. Rated T for swearing and occasional sexual scene.**

**Arthur is the gay, unpopular nerd.**

**Alfred is the all American popular jock. Straight, of course. They both seem to hate each other-Until they both get locked in a sports cellar and things happen that really shouldn't. What ensues is a whole load of drama...**

Chapter 1

**Hello guys, this is my first fanfiction on this account! I had another account last year where I write a few successful stories... let's see if you can guess who I am :).**

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!"

Alfred slammed the basement door with all the strength he could muster. It stayed locked.

"Could you please stop acting like a buffoon?!" The slender, scruffy haired blonde boy finally spoke. He always tried hard to maintain his posh, upper class composure but Arthur couldn't bare it. Bloody Americans. Always making commotion.

The muscular, blue eyed blonde sharply turned around so he was face-to-face with the Englishman. As he met Arthur's steely green eyed stare he felt his face get hot.

"In case you haven't realised buddy, Coach has LOCKED US IN THE SPORTS CELLAR."

Arthur retorted with a thin lipped scowl.

"And you think by acting like a barbarian, that we'll get out of here? Why am I stuck with you Alfred, of all people?"

Alfred knocked down a crate as he slammed Arthur against the wall.

"Why are you SUCH A JERK?!" he cried out, gripping the English boy's slim shoulders. Arthur turned crimson red as he felt Alfred's muscular frame brush against his thin one, feeling his warm breath tickle his cheek, their lips so perilously close. Alfred's sapphire blue eyes showed desperation; confusion as he waited for an answer.

"You're an idiot is why." Arthur's smarm was still apparent as that was all he could choke out.

Alfred was the jock.

He was popular.

Why would he care so much about an average, unpopular nerd like Arthur, who was constantly teased about his sexuality? The thing is, Alfred was becoming obsessed with this boy. He couldn't explain what he was feeling. But he'd think about him all day with an almost passionate anger. He had hated the boy the moment he moved into Alfred's hometown...

But the English boy was constantly on Alfred's mind. His delicate features, his piercing eyes, and that accent. And as much as Alfred disliked Arthur, his heart pumped a little faster at the sight of the English boy.

But he wasn't gay.

No _way._

Alfred's grip on Arthur only tightened.

"Why am I so interested in a faggot like you? On my mind, 24/7...' he whispered trembling. He couldn't help it as his hands moved slowly down Arthur's arms. The Englishman's heart fluttered as he felt the American's tanned smooth skin brush against his own.

Arthur replied, maintaining his snide tone.

"Don't you see, we're so similar, you buffoon-"

But he was cut off as the American boy embraced him in a full kiss, his muscular arms wrapped around his neck, as Arthur played with Alfred's messy blonde hair that both boys shared. Alfred's emotions took over as he deepened the kiss, pressing Arthur further against the wall with just enough pressure to make his heart go wild. Arthur gasped for breath as Alfred continued to wrestle tongues with the slim blonde.

Alfred's hands began to drop as he slowly began to regain his senses, and he gently broke off. But he wasn't satisfied.

Instead, his eyes glistened with horror as he'd realised what he'd just done.

No.

NO.

"I didn't...did I..." he stammered, blushing profusely as he tried to convince himself he didn't enjoy every heat-filled second of the luscious kiss he shared with the boy.

But Alfred wasn't gay.

HE WAS STRAIGHT.

**BUT AMERICA'S STRAIGHT XD. Anyway, please review and tell me how to improve, I would love to take on any (constructive) feedback. Also feel free to PM me about anything :P I love to talk**


	2. Thinking of you all night

Chapter 2

**Thanks for the follows and reviews guys ^-^**

...And that was the last exchange between the two boys for 2 weeks. Despite sharing the majority of classes and the same dormitory, there were only brief, awkward glances between Alfred and Arthur. But every time they managed to lock eyes, they instantaneously pictured the fateful kiss they shared that night in the cellar.

Alfred seemed to be moving on perfectly with life. Carrying on with life at International High, he engaged in the stereotypical activities as one of his calibre; bragging about sexual encounters with girls, winning at all macho sports and just generally being the adored, American blond everyone looked up to him as. Of course, there was a pang every time Coach asked him to get some equipment from the sports cupboard, the basket of baseballs he knocked over almost symbolic of that night.

But Alfred HAD to move on.

He wasn't gay, he wasn't bi, he wasn't anything but Government-approved heterosexual. Alfred wasn't going let himself feel anything that wasn't normal; it was just a momentary lapse, an error of judgement-

An impulse.

Alfred froze as he pondered open the implications of the word. It WAS an impulse. But was it based on true feelings? It must be, it had to be. No, it wasn't, yes it was, Alfred's heart and mind conflicted as he lay in bed one night, the first time since two weeks that he actually considered his actions. But he finalised in his mind that he was DEFINITELY NOT GAY.

_That night...it didn't mean anything. I need a girlfriend; this faggy school is doing my fucking head in._

But both of the boys hadn't moved on.

Arthur lay awake at night yet again, as he seemed to be doing every night nowadays. And to think, the object of his love was so near. His Prince Charming slept right next to him, yet not close enough. He longed to feel Alfred's burning touch, to feel those soft lips caress against his. But to no avail; the American had ignored Arthur ever since. The playful insults had stopped, the heated yet passionate arguments they fought every chance to get had finished, and now, when both boys revealed their feelings, Alfred wanted to move on, to forget that it had ever happened. And Arthur knew; for God's sake, Arthur knew Alfred better than he knew himself! His burgeoning obsession with the boy was taking over Arthur's life. He couldn't take it any more.

The English boy softly sobbed as he buried his face in his pillow

_Why am I the bastard that never moves on?! Why am I the useless one; the one who always gets left behind?!_

Life was already a struggle for Arthur; a slim, slight weedy boy with tousled blonde hair and fuzzy eyebrows. He was shit at sport, had burning love for Earl Grey tea and excelled at literature. He was the prime target for bullies, which ironically, tended to be Alfred's friendship group.

Oh, and another thing.

He was gay. Openly gay. In a boy's boarding school.

Arthur, in some sort of cruel twist of fate, somehow managed to be the centre of negative attention while being ostracized and ignored at the same time. Not a day went by when he wasn't slammed against the lockers, or tripped up, or had 'FAGGOT' hissed at his face. He sat alone in the school cafeteria, as the ignorant boys feared they would be 'raped' apparently. But Arthur always pretended he didn't care, that he was upper-class, and had nothing to do with the riffraff.

But those boys left scars.

And not just psychological scars, but scarlet wounds on his forearms that couldn't heal as they were hacked each day.

But Arthur couldn't heal with just any kind of ointment. He needed a special kind of medicine, an American brand, with golden hair and sapphire eyes.

He needed Alfred.

**Tell me what you thinkk, and follow the story if you approve, dear reader :P**


	3. Memories in the grapevines

**Sorry about the delay guys... I wish I had a valid excuse but I don't, I'm just a lazy twad xD. What does love do to a girl eh? **

The first half term holiday of the year. So much had happened...yet nothing had actually _happened_.

After cramming his many boxes of luggage (which mainly consisted of baseball gloves) into the cab, Alfred sighed with relief. He silently fought the urge to remember that dweeb as he sat in the British style black taxi. It was so annoyingly easy; it only took a cup of tea, or the sound of Beethoven, or the sight of an old leather bound book to revive mistakes. MISTAKES. But yet again, Alfred tried to push aside the thought.

_At last. Away from this school. It was doing...shit to my head! Not enough chicks would drive anyone to do, something like that. I am getting a girlfriend, end fucking of._

Arthur collapsed onto his bed as his unpacked suitcases towered besides him. For a week, he would be free of insults, free of being physically abused .Just him, his typewriter, a pot of steaming Earl Grey and peace.

Peace.

_How can I be at peace when the man who's stolen my heart lives two doors away from me?! Its like my desire to always be near him is fulfilled, but with a twist of heartbreak and pain. _

He happily reminisced of the previous summer when Alfred had first moved to his home town. He remembered when at the first glance of the boy, he never seemed to despise and adore someone so much at the same time. Arthur remembered when he sneakily peeked out of his room window as the muscular blue eyed boy heaved a suitcase out, baseball jacket sloppily hanging from his waist, profanity filled rap music blasting out of his cheap neon coloured headphones. They were at opposite ends of the spectrum; it was against everything Arthur stood for, but he seemed so inviting and warm. He could feel an almost magnetic attraction, simply by laying eyes on the American boy.

But, when they had truly first met, Arthur knew he was the one; that fateful moment they bumped into each other last July...

Arthur usually loved to sit amongst the grapevines to read. It was a sanctuary from the hustle-bustle of daily life: his interfering mother, his disapproving father and his annoying siblings. It was his place. Arthur's place.

Then he noticed someone in his place.

A great, bulky, beefy AMERICAN with a packets of potato crisps and Coke cans littering the place, laughing distastefully as he looked closer into his smartphone.

'EXCUSE ME?!' Arthur probed, annoyed at the fact his place had been taken from him.

'You're excused!' the American replied with a chuckle as he looked him up and down and continued texting.

'I'm sorry SIR, but you seem to have taken my spot!'

The American boy put his phone down, stretched, and exhaled deeply.

'What a way to welcome your handsome, dashing new neighbour! I'm Alfred, you?' he continued his cheerful exterior, seeming to enjoy the English boy's frustration.

'Arthur. Pleasure (!)' he choked out coldly, maintaining his thin lipped composure.

'Hmmph. Typical uptight English bastard.'

'Why, I've never seen a finer example of a gargantuan American buffoon in my life!' he quickly replied with a smarm.

'So...what do you actually do here?' Alfred tried to instigate some sort of friendly conversation, being the all-loving, popular American boy he was.

'I appreciate culture. But you would never understand.'

'Shit you're sassy! Didn't no one ever teach ya any manners fancypants?'

'I only talk with respect to those who have a penchant for speaking grammatically correct.' Arthur peeked back inside his book, secretly elated at the attention the fascinating, attractive blond was giving him. But Alfred was pissed off and stood up.

'Alright, whatcha reading that's so freaking important?!' His strength against Arthur's weediness meant that he easily snatched the book off him.

'Wait...What are you doing...You buffoon...' Arthur stuttered as he made a futile attempt to take back the book.

'Kafka?' Alfred announced as he read the cover. 'You're into that? I would've thought that would be too arthouse and obscure for you, it's not technically the classics.'

Arthur felt his jaw drop as he realised that Alfred ACTUALLY KNEW who Kafka was.

_Does the boy even read?! How the bloody hell does know? And how does he know what the terms 'arthouse' and 'obscure' are?_

'Plus pretty boy, the Castle isn't even his best work. The Metamorphosis is much better, better storyline too. And you call yourself of culture'

Arthur stammered, at a loss for words. 'Well, buffoon, the-the Castle talks about themes like bureaucracy, which you would never understand, so there-'

_I haven't even read the Metamorphosis...Bloody hell...Outdone by an American. I SIMPLY SHALL NOT BE._

'The Castle practically spoonfeeds you the plot. The Metamorphosis has so much mystery, which why you'll never get it, fag.' Alfred laughed.

_Wow...I can actually be myself around this dude. He reads Kafka too. But like don't get me wrong, I'm not a nerd or some shit like that. I just read once in a while. _

_I'm not a nerd._

'And you've come to this conclusion how?...' Arthur blushed, as the American boy had realised his sexuality. He was feeling scared and hopeful at the same time; maybe he might ostracise him now...

Or flirt with him.

'Come on dude, its obvious. You totally have a crush on me. But I'm cool with it. Even if you are annoying and I can't stand your face.' And then Alfred gave him a smile, a warm smile, a smile that filled Arthur's head to toe with absolute joy.

He was the first not to run away.

'Hey fag, why ya crying for?'

And the tears were streaming down his face, yet again three months later, but not because of joy, but because of heartbreak.

Because Alfred wasn't smiling at him any more.

Alfred sitting down by the grapevines, was hand in hand with a slender, tall girl with piercing blues eyes and ash blonde hair.

Natalya.


End file.
